


Swimming Lessons

by MyersMoobies



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Porn, genitals are genderneutral/no pronouns get used, i do love soft mikey, if you dont like that please read with caution, oh i describe a very mild underwater panic scene too, porn happens here, soft myers, softer myers fo da day hes surprisingly gentle, some sort of weird au where you live with michael which i might write more for at some point, thats about it, this is a horny fic for everybody, this is so specific but i talk about pool vents in this briefly so if they scare you be careful, you fuck in a pool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:48:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28824738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyersMoobies/pseuds/MyersMoobies
Summary: You found out that the infallible Michael Myers can’t swim, and take it upon yourself to teach him how. Michael has other ideas in mind, it seems.
Relationships: Michael Myers/Reader, Michael Myers/You
Comments: 5
Kudos: 101





	Swimming Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta’d, written in one go at 1am. I’m tired, it’s rushed, but the idea was given to me by knite-jin on Tumblr (legend).
> 
> GNC genitals, no pronouns or gendered terms used, all are welcome here. In some weird AU where Michael still kills but for whatever reason you’ve softened him up, and I might explore it more at some point. 
> 
> (Requests/prompts are welcome here or on Tumblr @scarabtea.)

“Oh, come on, it won’t be that cold.”

You spoke the cliché line in shivers to the broad-shouldered man stood next to you, both sets of eyes staring up at the currently vacant building. It was around 2am on a stinging cold night, and lately you’d been insisting that Myers learned how to swim - you’d found out he couldn’t when you’d heard a splash from the garden pool one morning, and poked your head out the door curiously. Then you’d ran out the door, with the pool net in hand to fish him to safety. He’d moped around the house for _hours_ in a blanket and demanded far more attention than you were used to giving. But you did anyway, because he was your Michael.

In a way you thought it was quite funny that a man like him was so incapable in the water, but you didn’t hold it against Michael one bit and you simply insisted you’d show him how at some point. Then the next morning you’d heard splashing _again_ , only this time it was a fox and not a fully grown man, and although you’d gotten the small creature out safely your overly hygienic ways insisted that you still had the pool drained entirely for sanitation purposes.

This meant you did the next best thing you could do, and you’d broken into the local swimming pool. The other fact you’d found out about Michael lately was his proficiency in unlocking doors, so long as he wanted to go through them, and it only took him minimal fiddling to push open the steel bar that lead directly into the pool’s chamber, the stench of chlorine hitting your nose almost instantly and the hot air from the pool soothing your chilled skin.

“See? Feel that warmth,” you said, taking hold of his lower arm and slowly but surely making your way to the water’s edge, rows of powerful motion lights flicking to life above you and making you grateful that the pool’s windows were covered for the night. A bright yellow sign reminded all pool-goers to shower before and after swimming - you knew that was more to protect others and not yourself, so you had little issue stripping your clothes down to undergarments, acutely aware the entire time of a pair of steeled eyes fixed on you that would’ve before been terrifying but now only brought the tiniest of grins to your lips.   
“You better be getting undressed too.”

Sure enough, you turned around and there he was in all his glory. Or, most of it anyway, because thankfully he’d taken the context clue to leave his boxers on; sure, you’d seen him naked a fair share of times but... he never failed to make your breath hitch. Somehow the murderous expanse of taut, scarred-up skin and capable muscle no longer scared you. Instead you wanted to put your hands on him, kiss each scar and rub the stress from his muscles until he finally relaxed, soothe his hair and take the knots out from it. He deserved to be relaxed more often, you decided, because it made him look very cute indeed.

Honestly he even looked cute now, in a questionable way, because he watched you slowly slide yourself into the shallow end of the pool with a look in his eyes you could just dare to read as ‘concern’ as he hovered at the edge as if about to jump forwards and yank you right out to the safety of dry land.  
“Come on,” you called patiently, soothingly. “It’s warm, and you won’t have to go in far.”  
Still Michael didn’t budge for another whole minute. You fell silent, and you could hear the water sloshing gently at the poolside, could see him watching the surface, eyes hooked on each ripple of the pool reflecting the bright lights above and distorting his view of your body that he lingered on longest. It was your presence safely in the water that perhaps finally convinced him to follow suit and he slid in with as much grace as someone who’d done it countless times would. Maybe he’d be good at this?

...Maybe not. Almost instantly a large hand had reached out to grip onto your shoulder like an eagle’s talon and he’d fallen completely still. It was clear from the rigidness in his shoulders, the clench to his jaw, his elevated breathing - Michael didn’t like the pool one bit, and whether it was from a past experience or his recent journey in your garden? You truly couldn’t say. All you knew was that the poor guy was as rigid as stone and as funny as it was for such a killer to be so helpless, it tugged at your heart more than anything and drove you to put a stop to his misery.

You reached up to slowly pry his hand free and take it in your own, giving it a squeeze it as a comforting gesture.  
“We won’t go deep, not today,” you said quietly, and that got the attention you’d been waiting for as his eyes flicked over to meet yours directly. “Maybe not at all. But today we’ll stay where you can touch the bottom. Promise.”

There was the usual look in his eyes as he weighed up trusting your word. At first your promises had been little more than words to Michael but by and by as you kept each one, he slowly began realising that maybe, just maybe... he could trust them now and again. But each one would take careful consideration, deep precise thought, and he was clearly balancing the odds in his mind as the answer mulled in his head. Michael finally nodded, squeezed your hand back. He liked doing that, his own little sign of trust, and it made you smile right at him.

You weren’t the best swimmer yourself but you did do your best with the basics. Physics meant Michael was light enough for you to pretend to pick up in your arms, and you’d never seen him look so terrified (slightly widened eyes) as you scooped him up and waddled to the opposite side of the shallows, the man clinging to the pool railing the moment you let go of him. It was... stupid, because the water was only coming up to your neck or so and therefore Michael was _certainly_ safe, but you knew these things could be so irrational and you simply praised the behaviour with another smile. Hey, at least he recognised safety. 

Honestly it was an equal miracle that Michael hadn’t gotten out yet, but you figured from the lingering look in his eyes that it had something to do with him not wanting to leave you all alone in the evil perils of the water, which made your heart flip a little. Seeing as he already had his hands on the railing you showed him how to get a proper grip, instructed that he kicked out his legs - _”no, Michael, more like a... that’s it!”_ \- and slowly reached under him to lift his body parallel with the water. You yourself had learnt how to swim this way, kicking off from the poolside when you were a terrified kid too scared to reach the depths, and now you left Michael to it as you kicked off the side to head straight for that very same deep end, the one you now adored. 

It didn’t occur to you really, so lost in the freedom of dipping and spinning around in the pool for minutes on end, that Michael would’ve noticed you’d left his side. Or that he’d follow you, bravely inching his way along the railings and clinging to it like a terrified crab. You only noticed him at all once you dove again to touch the bottom of the utmost deep point, spotting a pair of broad legs and - heh, boxers tight from the water. You waved up and swam further, down deeper until your limbs skimmed the pool tiles. Michael’s legs were no longer in sight. You never liked lingering down here for too long. The water got colder, and the lights didn’t reach so well, and every time you swam over the grate at the very bottom you felt as though someone was about to come snatch you away, then- suddenly there _was_ someone snatching you, and you yelled out, water flooding your mouth as you kicked, flailed your legs in desperation because _finally_ the pool vent had gotten you like you knew it would-

You surfaced, hacking and spluttering water, and it was only once you’d gripped the safety of the poolside and blinked chlorine from your eyes that you saw who it really was.   
Michael looked like a drowned rat. A large, concerned drown rat, and the look really didn’t suit him at all because it made his eyes so comparatively mellow and tame, and _sad_ \- had he ‘saved’ you? 

“Michael...” you began slowly, throat sore from the sting of pool chemicals that you had to splutter and cough up.   
“Michael, I was fine, how did you even...”  
Trailing off you glanced to the side, and had to admit that it was very smart of him. Michael had been clinging onto the side and watching you ‘drown’, in his mind, and he’d done his best to bravely dig his way through the water towards you with no effect. He’d tried smacking at the surface too because maybe it’d give up its treasure if he hit it- but nothing. So in haste he’d grabbed a few of the training dive-weights he’d spied sitting on the side, just enough to tip the scales and help him down, and then he’d latched onto the back of your underpants to tug you up to safety.

He didn’t look happy about having to do it, and he still didn’t look happy as you swam him back to sit on the steps of the pool even as you praised him for being so smart and trying to help. Strokes through his wet brown curls, kisses to his nose... oh, Michael. You couldn’t resist crawling into his lap either. Both your midriffs were still submerged and the water tickled as it lapped your belly, but you paid it no mind and instead cupped both of Michael’s cheeks in your hands. He had nowhere to look but you.

“I’m alright, really. You just startled me.” See? You even got off his lap to do a little spin for him, feeling his eyes roam each inch of you for signs of damage but he quickly pulled you back onto his lap, just so you wouldn’t drift off. It was rewarded with a big kiss to his cheek, a wet one that tasted of chlorine and made you grin.

Oh Michael indeed. You’d noticed something as he reeled you back in like a fish, and you’d like to chalk it up to the adrenaline of the ‘save’ but knowing Michael it could easily be anything at all. There was a firmness in his boxers that hadn’t been there before, one that, as you paid attention, you realised he was subtly holding you over, letting every slight ebb of the water drag you back and forth across. You’d almost died, in his mind, and the horny bastard’s first response was to fucking grind off on you as discreetly as he could manage. You wanted to be mad but really you were just as aroused by that as he clearly was if the flush on your face was to be trusted.

“Michael-“  
Nothing, just more soft grinding and maybe the softest of hums as acknowledgement that made your heart flip and your groin twitch.   
“-Michael, I know what you’re doing.” His grip tightened just enough to make it stop, a minute amount of pressured. Innocent as ever it seemed. You steeled yourself for the awful corny line you were about to deliver, and you even silently apologised to Michael in advance.

“If you want it then do it properly.”

Were you really about to suggest fucking in a public pool? Yes you were, because right now it was empty, which by logic made it a private pool, and honestly you couldn’t think clearly either way with the whiplash you got from Michael standing up to yank off your underpants completely- you barely had time to make sure he threw them onto the side and _not_ just into the water where you’d likely lose them to the drain. He seemed unusually eager to get straight to it which you blamed on what’d happened prior, god. His hands were obnoxious in how they covered every bit of you at once, demanded each bit of your already-shaky attention- and then one went between your legs and you lost any composure you had remaining.

Trembling, you leant back against his broad chest, arousingly wet from the pool-water and as warm as he ever was, a sigh escaping your lips as that hand went further, as it got cockier. Michael was a vacuum from which you couldn’t escape even if you’d wanted to. You were aware of the fingers prodding at your entrance and like the good lover you were you spread your thighs without being asked - _Michael could just look at you and you’d spread them for him_ \- and you thanked the way that the warm pool water provided a slight amount of lubrication for the task at hand. The large, sizeable task that had been freed without you realising and now rested, throbbing, against your lower back. Fuck.

“C’mon,” you breathed out. You didn’t feel much in the mood for teasing at that moment and your hole was already begging to be filled, your vision clouded by pool-water and by the thought of Mi- Mich- _you just wanted to see him_. You had to, and you continually begged him to turn you around until he finally conceded. There he was; effortlessly pretty in every way, firm eyes watching you in clear interest as he worked first a single finger, then eventually two up into your entrance, feeling around and prodding about until he latched onto a spot that had you bucking your hips eagerly for him. Your moan echoed embarrassingly around the pool, but it wasn’t like anyone save for the two of you was there to hear it. He jabbed his digits and you gave another.

By now even your front was as excited as it could get, twitching and throbbing and begging you rub yourself in such a pleasurable spot, begging you to stroke yourself and get yourself off. You waited. You waited until Michael pulled his fingers out, and you waited until he moved you to sink down slowly onto the width of his cock, and you waited until he gave you a permissive look. It was only when you’d taken him down as far as you could, Michael’s hands acting as weights on your shoulders, that you were allowed to reach down and really begin sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

Each one made your hole clench, and each clench made his breath catch in his throat as the man so kindly waited for you to become accustomed to his girth and the way his length entirely stretched out your insides. You’d almost say it felt like too much, but now you knew it felt like it fit just right, giving your own permissive glance that signalled he could do as he pleased. Michael always fancied the rougher paces. He liked watching you squirm and gasp out on his cock, and he liked it especially when your own moan was cut short by _another_ gasp for air, each thrust always knocking it out from your lungs.

He never started slowly either. He’d get you settled first, maybe he’d rub at your hips (where he grabbed you now) and then he’d lift you up and begin fucking you open (as he did now). Your reaction was instant as his dick slammed right into your entrance - the slightest bit of muted pain quickly found itself replaced by tingles of pleasure, starting at your toes and spreading like wildfire through your veins along with how Michael picked up a pace. Breathlessly you had to admire his strength and stamina, because although you didn’t weigh _loads_ in the pool you knew this was still a feat, you knew it was a feat to be fucked into so hard your hand had nowhere to grip but his bare shoulder.

Desperately you buried your face there too in the crook of his neck, and yet you didn’t stop palming yourself. The rhythm was already dizzying, electric, setting your mind spinning uselessly as you were sure- you were sure you were already about to fucking cum from it all, how in the hell-  
You did. You whimpered pathetically and came on his cock, walls spasming tight around him and dragging a pleased grunt from his lips. You were so nice to look at, he thought. So perfect to him, especially now, like this, where he slowed the pace and lazily ground your hips down onto his and savoured every overstimulated whimper until he finally spilled too. You’d almost call it gross that his cum would no doubt mix in with the water, but as he filled you up to the brink all you could really think about dazedly was how excited you were for his second swimming lesson.

And Michael was ready to learn.


End file.
